


Grief

by Cryswimmer



Series: I Look Forward to It [13]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 07:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9169291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryswimmer/pseuds/Cryswimmer
Summary: This story takes place after Angels of Manhattan. Enough said.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Jaylie for commenting on the last story I posted; comments are like a paycheck when writing fanfic.

Grief

The TARDIS came into view as he walked around the last wall leading to the cemetery. River was standing in the doorway, obviously waiting. Another girl who waited, he thought numbly. But River wasn't a girl. Part of him had always seen Amy as a girl, but never River. Perhaps it was meeting her as an adult, or it might have been her persistent innuendo, but River had always been a woman to him.

“Are you okay?” she asked when he got close.

He paused and looked at her, not bothering to answer. He could see in her eyes that she understood. They were her parents, after all. He knew she had to be hurting. She spent a lot of time with her mother, both with him and without.

“Of course you're not,” she mumbled as she looked away from him.

“I will be,” he assured her. “I'm always okay.”

“Ah,” she she agreed. “Well, come inside.”

“Can I drop you... somewhere,” he said as he followed her through the doorway. “Amy wanted me to... I have something I need to do.”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “But it will keep until morning.”

“No,” he argued, moving towards the console. “I should go...”

“It will keep,” she said, more adamantly. 

He just didn't have the strength to argue with her. He followed her into the TARDIS and took a seat on the steps as she took over the controls. He didn't know where she was going. He didn't think he cared. He just wanted to forget, to ignore, and to grieve.

The TARDIS was silent as it flew through time and space. Almost absently he watched River fly her, navigating automatically, compensating for natural turbulence and occasional obstructions. She had said it didn't matter, but he knew better. He could see it in the set of her shoulders, the tension in her arms, and it the uncompromising line of her jaw. 

 

He wasn't sure that they had landed until she left the controls to walk to him and sit beside him. She slipped her hand into his and laid her head on his shoulder. When he felt the dampness on his collar, he peeked down to see her crying. Quiet and still, she lay there as a steady stream of tears ran onto his shirt.

He kissed her on the forehead, unable to forget the many times he had done the same to her mother. How could he survive this. It felt like a gaping hole to his chest, and he didn't know what to do about it. What was worse, he knew that he was only grieving for himself. Amy had made her choice, and her choice had always been Rory. She may have been fascinated with him, drawn to his adventures, and trusting in him... but it was Rory she loved. His last words, “Come along, Pond,” were still echoing in his mind. Amy had not come along... she had chosen to go away.

He lifted River's hand to his lips and kissed it. “I'm so sorry,” he said softly. “I know how close the two of you have become.”

“She was my best friend,” River said. “I know she's with my father, where she wants to be – needs to be – and that their lives will be wonderful. But those lives will be without me. I can travel anywhere through space and time, except for the one place I want to be.”

“I'm sorry,” he said uselessly, his own pain easing slightly as he thought about hers. No, not easing, but broadening in acknowledgment that he was not alone in this. Amy had been her best friend since childhood, her mother before she'd even known the truth. She had been River's home-base, where she was able to escape from Stormcage for a glass of wine or a cup of tea. River had become part of Amy's life, and had filled the hole that losing her baby had caused. River had been... Melody Pond.

“Take me for a walk,” she asked quietly.

He nodded, threaded his fingers through hers, and stood before tugging her to her feet. They left the TARDIS together, walking into a wooded area. “When and where?” he asked.

“Nineteen, seventy,” she answered. “You'll see where.”

No sooner had she spoken than they broke from the trees and walked the short distance to a man-made railing. On the other side, one of the greatest natural wonders of the Earth stretched out before them. The Grand Canyon seemed to stretch into infinity as it loomed before them. River stopped when they got to the railing and eased closer to his side. Automatically, his hand left hers so that he could put his arm around her.

They stood that way for a long while, until it wasn't enough. Tears trailed down her face, and while she made no sound he could hear her crying out to him. He pulled her gentry to his chest, tucked her head beneath his chin, and just held her while she cried so silently. As she did, he looked over the impressive scenery.

Tears streamed down River's cheeks for a long time, although a sob never broke from her. Truthfully, he had never seen her this upset about anything, except perhaps killing him. Even then, she had been carefully determined rather than tearful. She had never broken down – not really – not even when he had kissed her and remade the world. She had told him that it didn't matter. Why had she tried to act as though it didn't matter when he knew it did?

When the silent tears finally stopped, he didn't let go. He still ached, but the worst of his grief has been set aside in his need comfort his wife. He had lost friends, companions... she had lost her mother and father, and her two best friends. Clearly, she had suffered the greatest loss.

“What can I do?” he finally asked her, finding that thinking of her first actually eased the pain somewhat. It was hard to be self-centered when caring for another.

When she answered, her voice was raw and tired. “You're doing it,” she told him. “Just hold me.”

He did. He held her while the sun set over the canyon, turning it infinite shades of purple, orange, and indigo. He held her as darkness claimed the sky, revealing a billion stars that seemed close enough to touch. He held her until her body went quiet and relaxed, her breathing smoothed out, and she sighed in what sounded like contentment.

“It's just so beautiful,” she said. “I needed this.”

He had too, although he hadn't realized it. “I think I needed you,” he said softly.

He didn't see her smile, but he thought he could feel it. “The world continues to turn,” she told him. “People come and go, our lives change and there are beginnings and endings. It all seems out of our control. I used to hope that there was some central control to the universe that kept things balanced, but the longer I live the more I think that the universe is purely random.”

He didn't have an answer. He was a Time Lord. For the longest time he had believed that keeping the universe in balance was his responsibility. It was what he had learned at the academy, what he had been taught from the age of eight. He had come to realize in the centuries since that he did not have control. There was no single authority to fix every error in history, every injustice that occurred. He hated it, but he had to admit it. Even if his entire race had been able to, he could not have accomplished it himself.

“I have a confession,” she said softly. 

“What would that be?”

She took a deep breath. “I knew,” she finally said.

“Knew?” he asked, his body tensing involuntarily. Could she have stopped this?

“I knew they stopped traveling with you,” she admitted. “I've seen your future, and I knew they weren't with you. I told myself that they got tired of the travel, and that they just wanted a quiet life at home. Mother had talked about adopting a child, and I rather hoped... But I never asked. I wanted to believe that you all agreed it was best. But I think a part of me just knew...”

“It wouldn't have changed anything,” he said gently. “We kept winding up in that damned graveyard. The point was fixed, and I just didn't see it. I should have seen it.”

“You couldn't have changed it either,” she reminded him. “Fixed is just that. And you couldn't have known.” She was quiet a moment before continuing, “You know, I was right after all.”

“Right?”

“They did stop traveling to be together, to have a quiet and normal life. Dad may not have chosen it, but Mother did. She chose him, and she chose to leave. I suppose we can't take that away from her.”

“It was always Rory,” he said softly. “Even before she understood that.”

“I remember,” she agreed.

They stood there for a long while, the Doctor rubbing River's back while she held tightly to him. It was all well and good to understand, but it didn't ease the ache of losing the ones they loved.

“I didn't think to bring a torch,” River said after a long while.

The Doctor reached in his pocket and retrieved his sonic screwdriver, adjusting a setting and directing the resulting light in front of them. They turned and walked back to the TARDIS together in the narrow light of his screwdriver.

They were quiet a long time after they reached the control room. Neither of them were in a mood to make a choice on where to go next. They sat beside one another on the stairs, gently leaning on one another, and just trying to cope with the situation.

“I'm so tired,” River finally said. “I'm going to go lay down.”

He nodded, and continued to sit as she stood and walked up the stairs. He didn't even feel like trying to find the energy to follow her.

When had he last felt this empty? The only thing that came to mind was when he'd had to leave Rose. He had returned Donna to her family, said his goodbyes to Mickey, Jack, Martha, and Sarah Jane. But what had torn his heart out had been leaving Rose. He found some comfort in knowing that he had left part of himself with her, but that was only for her benefit. For himself, he had lost everyone. He had actually promised himself that it would never happen again, that he would travel alone. 

Now that he thought about it, the only thing that had saved him from that promise had been little Amelia Pond. He had climbed from the wrecked TARDIS and looked into her too young, too old face, and he had been unable to disappoint her. She had been so serious, and yet so trusting. She had worked so hard to find him what he wanted. He smiled as he remembered her face when he had chosen fish fingers and custard to eat. He had known – just known – how special she would become to him.

Before his regeneration this time, he had been on the edge of losing himself. He had been alone – never a good thing – and actively afraid of death. A huge part of him hadn't believed that he would regenerate. He had felt as though every person, every species, and every life form had been against him. The Ood prophesy had driven him slightly mad, causing him to act recklessly and overstep his privileges as a Time Lord. He had lost more than a part of himself to the panic.

And then it had been over. Once he had felt the energy engulf him, he had regained his purpose. He had come to himself as the TARDIS flew over the Earth in a whirlwind of explosions and finally crashed into Amelia Pond's back yard. With the simple belief of a child, Amy had restored him. Her faith had recreated him.

And now, his precious Amelia Pond was gone. Where would he find his strength now? Who would believe in him? Who would give him a reason to care?

The answer came to him on a wave of relief. The grief didn't subside – it was far too deep for that – but with it he realized that he could, and would, go on. Amy had given him that reason, and she hadn't even known it at the time. He would go on because she wished it. He would go on because she had left him something just as precious as she was. He would go on because he did have a reason. He had her daughter.

He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting on the step alone, but it had been long enough to become slightly stiff. He wasn't used to inactivity. He stood slowly, and made sure that the TARDIS door was secure. Then he walked up the steps and didn't have to search for River. She was in the first bedroom he checked, curled up under a thick blanket. She had teased him once about wanting to spend a night in every room in the TARDIS, but she had her favorites. He had once teased her that this room was likely the one she'd been conceived in, as Amy and Rory had used it on their wedding night. 

Truthfully, he wasn't sure what room they had used on that night. He had stayed clear of them when they had gone all romantic. Amy had loved to embarrass him with references to her husband, and she was very comfortable with public displays of affection. It had amused her endlessly that she had been able to make him blush. Honestly, it wasn't that he was particularly shy, but rather that she was so much like a daughter to him. He had met her when she was so young, and a part of him always saw the little girl in her.

He didn't need light to find his way to River. Even in the dark he could sense her so closely that it was nearly as good as seeing her. She was still, breathing deeply, and most likely asleep. Slowly and quietly, so as not to wake her, he stripped off his clothes and dropped them on the floor before slipping beneath the blanket with her. 

As soon as he put his arm around her, she moved back into his body. She was warm and soft, her body relaxed. He had to smile. It seemed the only time she was ever still was when she was sleeping. He could remember a time when she slept in fits and starts, but when he slept beside her she stayed calm. He tucked her in close and closed his eyes.

He was actively afraid to sleep. It was never easy for him – his mind simply didn't have an off switch – but when he was upset he found it particularly difficult to settle down to sleep. Nightmares were the norm for him, rather than the exception. He had lived too long, seen too much, and his subconscious was rarely kind. Nonetheless, the one time he made an extra effort to sleep was when River was with him. To begin with, she worried when he didn't get enough rest. She insisted that he needed it, and he couldn't persuade her otherwise. In addition, he enjoyed sleeping with her in his arms. She calmed him, relaxed him, and even if he stayed awake he could watch her and enjoy how she felt, how she made him feel.

He decided that would be enough for tonight. He wouldn't sleep – didn't dare – but he would enjoy holding River. He let his mind wander through the time he had spent with Amy and Rory, remembered back over the adventures they had managed and the risks they had taken. So many times they had managed to beat the villain and save the day. They had truly had a wonderful run. 

At some point, he did fall asleep. If he dreamed, it was not enough to wake him, and certainly not enough to remember. When he woke, River was still sleeping but the TARDIS had added soft lighting to the room. He wanted to hope that it had all been a bad dream, but he knew better. His mind was not muddled by sleep.

Not long after that, River woke. He felt the tension trickle into her bit by bit, and when she began to shift around he gave her a gentle squeeze. “Good morning, Dear,” he said softly.

“Mmm,” she replied. “Morning, Sweetie.”

They lay there for a while longer before she turned to face him with more insistence. She looked at him for a long time, but she didn't speak.

“How are you?” he asked, nervous about the answer.

“Numb,” she admitted honestly. “But better. They're together, so I'll be okay. What about you?”

“The same,” he decided. “I'm always okay.”

“Liar,” she told him, but she was smiling as she did so.

He didn't argue, but he did reach over and kiss her. He felt a wave of relief when she kissed him back. He didn't feel that he had handled the night before as he should have, and he had been afraid she would be cross.

When the kiss ended, River turned fully in his arms and pressed him back on the bed. “Hold me a bit,” she requested.

He smiled as he did so, pulling her up onto his chest and wrapping her firmly in his arms. She snuggled in, and they lay that way for a long while before he spoke. “I wasn't kidding,” he told her. “I want you to travel with me.”

“Oh, I will,” she agreed. “I'd love a long trip. I want to go someplace you've never been before. I want to discover someplace together, just once.”

“I'd like that,” he said softly. 

“I won't travel with you all the time,” she clarified. “But now... yes, now I want to be with you for a bit. Maybe for a long bit. It sounds lovely.”

“For a long bit,” he agreed. “We'll see new places, and do new things.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

He hugged her to him tightly, and he started to heal.

**Author's Note:**

> I am nearly finished with this series, but there may be a second series in the works (I Remember It Well) from River's point of view. If anyone has any ideas for dates, please shout them out. After awhile, my ideas tend to fade. THANKS FOR READING!!


End file.
